About two weeks ago, I walked into the Phuket red light district feeling energized and hopeful…nervous, anxious….but so ready. Ready to show a world of buying and selling, of sex trade and sadness, the love of Jesus. Ready to talk to girls who had been trafficked, to try to share hope with them, listen to their story, show them that they are loved. Ready to live out the dreams that God had placed in my heart years before in college.
Two weeks ago I walked out of the Phuket red light district, broken hearted beyond belief.
I thought I knew what I was walking into. I have seen countless documentaries about sex trafficking. I had read the statstics, that Thailand is a hub for buying and selling trafficked girls. I had read the books and prayed and prayed for an opportunity to fight against it myself.
But nothing can prepare you for the brokenness that is the red light district.
For the empty eyes of girls in glass showcases, throwing fake smiles at the men sexually gesturing to them.
For the 17 year old girls with 3 children to feed.
To see people be bought.
To realize people are so thirsty for love, that they are overcome with joy to share their story with a complete stranger.
To see women-girls- ranked by brothel mothers, and, according to their beauty and flirtatiousness, given a price
For hearing forced, sexually charged conversations between a 16 year old girl and a 60 year old man, both with empty, sad eyes.
To hear stories of contempt, of girls wanting to get out, but not being able to.
Our night was full of beautiful moments. Of laughing with new friends, hearing stories of their families….even being pulled up to dance with them….deciding, a bit panicked, that this was a great time to teach them the all American robot move. (Yes, I did the robot on a bar top in Thailand).
But the whole time, my heart hurt so bad. These girls told us about their dreams…of business, having a family, going to school. They talked about all of these things as if they were distant fairytales: nice in theory, but unrealistic.
As I was leaving, I struck a more serious conversation with one of the girls that I especially connected with. For her protection, I’m not going to share her name. I said “We love you. And we really want you to know that Jesus loves you, too.”
She laughed, and said “What?”
“Jesus loves you, so, so much.”
She blushed, and said,
“I’m sorry…I don’t know who that is?”
And I was able to share the gospel with her for the first time ever.To tell her that Jesus is the son of God, and died for her on the cross. That she is loved by him. Maybe it meant nothing to her. Maybe she has already forgotten. But as she hugged us and begged us to come back (we did end up going back), I knew that she felt loved, heard, listened to,and wanted for something other than her body.
I don’t have an answer. Sometimes it’s hard to believe that God is good when things like sex trafficking are overwhelmingly real. I can’t fix it, I can’t change the world. I’m just one person, and sometimes that frustrates me. I want to fix it all. But for now, all I can do….all I know how to do….is just love people one at time, and trust that God is bigger than what I can see. To trust that he loves us, all of us, and is fighting for good in this broken world. All we can do is love people, and pray that our love helps, even just a little bit.
